The Last Poem On Earth

Mid-week poetry

Who will write the last poem on Earth?
And what on earth will it be about?
And who would publish it?

A poet might say:
‘We were here. Look at our works!
We built these mighty bridges,
now rusted and fallen;
we built this heap of highways
through which weeds push;
we constructed these great cities
whose buildings stand like broken teeth,
rotting in the black mouth of apocalypse.
We created art and music, literature and poetry.
We forged so much we thought unbreakable.
We accomplished more than seven wonders,
for we had inherited the technology of the gods.
We believed in Jesus Christ, in Buddha,
and in all the great mahatmas,
but their lights guttered in selfish darkness;
we also worshipped money
and justified it with moral philosophies
that exonerated greed.
We fashioned machines to take us to the stars,
but we flew too close to the sun
and paid the price of hubris.’

The last poem on Earth should be a warning,
because a poet must always tell the truth.
It will be written in the dust and ashes
of a civilisation that forgot its Culture.